


After Party

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Series: Freedom AU [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Super Sons (Comics), Superman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23588542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: After a night of shmoozing with local elites, they just want to spend some time together, alone. Of course, their superhero dads just have to drop in, right then - literally.
Relationships: Jonathan Kent/Damian Wayne
Series: Freedom AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1113378
Comments: 10
Kudos: 302





	After Party

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably maybe a year or so after _The Easiest Difficulty_ and they’re both upper-20s Jon’s just really REALLY in love with Damian, mkay. No straight up mention of Lois being informed because in my brain, when Damian called the fam, they relayed it to the Supers. Though in the other two fics, I know Damian was very stoic about not being a hero anymore, he still struggles with the choice himself, especially in situations like this. Sorry if ending is awkward.

Jon couldn’t stop staring at Damian as he said goodnight to his coworkers, as they left the convention center. The fundraiser for the animal shelter went off without a hitch. Nothing had been counted yet, but they all had the feeling they’d doubled their goal – at _least_.

But Jon watched as Damian smiled and waved – _genuine_ smiles – while he shot off a few last text messages, and they walked to Jon’s old beat up truck with the last of the decorations from the event. But he didn’t stop staring, even as Damian shut the door to the truck bed, and they both climbed into the cab.

He started the car, but didn’t take it from park, glancing around the lot, watching the last few volunteers drive off after a job well done. Then he grinned and laid his arm along the back of the bench seat, looking back to Damian, who was still typing away on his phone.

So, it took a few moments before Damian fixed his glasses and murmured, “You going to hit the gas any time soon?”

Jon silently shrugged, watching as Damian loosened his bowtie. This shindig had been a _semi_ -formal affair. That didn’t stop Damian from dressing to the nines, of course.

With no verbal response, Damian looked up himself, and narrowed his eyes at Jon’s attention. “What? What are you looking at?”

“You, obviously.” Jon smirked. “You look great.”

“You said that earlier this evening.” Damian mumbled, breaking eye contact. “You do too, by the way. Old Mrs. Barundy couldn’t stop talking about how handsome you were. Pretty sure that was the only reason she donated as much as she did. Also asked if I would raffle a date with you at next year’s affair.”

“And what did you tell her?”

“I told her I’d think about it.” Damian admitted. “I will gladly sell you for the wellbeing of my animals.”

“Good to know.” Jon laughed, shifted a little. “…You did great tonight too, you know. I’m really proud of you.”

“…Thank you.” Damian put his phone down and smiled. “And thank you for accompanying me this evening. I’m sorry I couldn’t spend more time with you.”

“You’re the head of the most successful shelter in the tri-state area at a fundraiser for your work, of _course_ you were going to be pulled in every big wig’s direction.” Jon waved off. But he shifted again along the seat, stretched his arm a little further so his fingers now brushed the back of Damian’s neck. “But now it’s done and over with and just you and me.”

“Mhm.” Damian smiled a little bit now, and Jon knew he was onto his game. “…You still haven’t put the truck in drive.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Do you plan to any time soon?”

“Not really.”

Damian barked a laugh, turning in the seat to face the other. “Jonathan Kent.” He warned playfully. “We are _not_ making out in the cab of your truck.”

“Why not?” Jon grinned like a Cheshire cat, giving up all semblance of subtly, practically throwing himself across the seat. “Everyone’s left.”

But Damian was still laughing, even as Jon tugged at his bowtie, pulling it off completely. “We are _not_ some horny teenagers after a school dance.”

“No, but you _do_ look great, and you just raised probably almost a million dollars for the animals.” Jon was already brushing his nose along Damian’s jaw, voice getting quieter and breathier by the syllable. “So I think you deserve a reward.”

“…I can wait until we get home for my reward.” Damian whispered, slowly wrapping his arms around Jon’s neck anyway.

“Yeah, but I entertained madam mayor’s drunk husband all night, so I deserve a reward too.” Jon returned. “And I think I’d like my reward right _now_.”

He didn’t wait for a response, gently pressing his lips to Damian’s. Damian instantly returned the gesture, practically dragging Jon on top of him in the process. Jon grinned, gleefully boxing Damian in against the passenger door.

“You’re…lucky.” Damian breathed when he could. He still had one arm around Jon’s neck, but the other had returned to his front, and was swiftly and expertly unbuttoning the first few clasps of Jon’s shirt. “I like…you.”

“I am.” Jon agreed, as Damian ran his fingers along Jon’s bare chest up to his throat. He ducked his face along Damian’s own neck, kissing until he found the spot he wanted to mark. “I’m the luckiest guy in the whole damn _world_.”

Damian gasped a breath as Jon bit gently into his skin, and dug his own nails into Jon’s back, clinging like Jon would disappear if he didn’t.

When Jon pushed a little too deep, sucked a little too hard, Damian laughed at the sensation, and a little mumble of _“Tickles_ …!” was whispered into Jon’s ear. So, at the insistence of Damian’s hands framing his jaw, Jon backed up a little, a small tease – _What, a little hickey too much for you, the great Damian Wayne?_ – already starting vibrate in his throat.

But when he looked into Damian’s ocean green eyes, half-lidded and adoring, his throat went dry, and his heart stuttered. He couldn’t say anything, he could barely even _breathe_.

Damian just smiled up at him, cheeks flushed and chest heaving slightly. Quietly, fingers of one hand stroking along Jon’s face, he reached up and tugged Jon’s glasses off.

“Much better.” Damian hummed, dropping the glasses to the floor of the cab while pulling Jon back in. When their lips met this time, Damian took control, and Jon was instantly putty in his hands. All he could do was stabilize himself with one hand along the window seam of the passenger door, the other wrapped as tightly around Damian’s rising hips as he could hold.

So they weren’t paying attention to anything else – of course they weren’t. Too wrapped up in each other, in the sensation of loving and being loved, of being alone with the one he held most dear.

So they didn’t see the body falling from the sky. Didn’t notice until it crashed into the bed of their truck.

At the sudden motion of the deafening crash, after their teeth clacked together in surprise, Jon immediately dropped his body onto Damian’s, instinctively trying to protect him as quickly as possible. Damian, for his part, went along with it, arms wrapped around Jon’s torso.

The truck bounced for a few more seconds, and it wasn’t until the car was completely still that Jon raised his head.

“What the fuck was that?” Damian spat beneath him, already trying to shimmy upwards to look for himself. Jon held him down for a second more, just to make sure the coast was clear.

“Not sure.” Jon murmured, looking around the still-empty parking lot. His eyes narrowed, though, as he reached the grass field nearby. “But something landed over there.” He nodded towards the dust rising in the dark, then back to his truck bed. “…And in our car?”

“Fuck.” Damian cursed again, even as Jon finally deemed it safe enough for him to sit up. He shifted back to his side of the car, kicking the door open, just as Damian did the same on his side.

As soon as they got into the open air, they heard an agonized groan coming from the mass that was feet away from landing on top of them. Jon had his fists and powers at the ready, even as Damian all but ran up to the lump, grabbing at the fabric that seemed to cover it.

But he’d barely moved it at all before he gasped, eyes going wide behind the blue frames.

“Batman?!”

The figure shifted a little, revealing Batman’s face, his mask half torn off. Not that you could recognize Bruce Wayne under the blood his face was covered with.

Damian was already climbing the side of the bed, not even bothering with the door, shoving the now crushed boxes Batman landed on to the side.

“Father…” He whispered, trying to turn Bruce to a better position than the one he landed in. As he did, he glanced up the sky, where his father clearly came from. “What happened?!”

“Luthor.” A wheezed reply came from the side, and Jon whirled around, gripping his fists even tighter, eyes lighting up red. He released his strength almost immediately, though, as he recognized his own dad limping pathetically towards them. “Being…asshole.”

His uniform was no better than Batman’s, a large slash right through the S-shield on his chest being the most prominent flaw.

Jon ran at him instantly, barely catching him before Clark collapsed.

“Dad…” Jon breathed. “… _Dad!_ ”

“Help…Bruce.” Clark drawled, head lolling to the side. “I…I d-dropped him. He’s…he’s hurt bad…”

“Jon!” Damian called. Jon glanced back, and saw Damian staring at them. He raised his hand to point towards Clark. Jon followed the gesture to his father’s side, and found the hilt of a glowing green dagger sticking out of his skin. Jon’s eyes widened as he looked desperately back at Damian, whose face was grim. “…Get him in the truck.”

Jon nodded, and began dragging Superman towards his truck bed.

~~

Damian sighed as he hung up the phone, absently staring at it in his hand as he lowered it from his face. After a moment, he shook his head, and slowly climbed back up the stairs. When he reached the landing, he went to the closest room and leaned against the doorframe, watching Jon for a moment, as he held his father’s hand.

“Pennyworth and Grayson are on their way. Should be here soon.” Damian whispered under the beeping of a heart monitor. Of _two_ heart monitors, with one attached to his own father in the other room. “Drake is looking into whatever conflict they had with Luthor tonight, and will update us when he can.”

Jon nodded, leaning back in his chair. Damian winced as he exposed all the blood still on the sheets, and mess of bandages on the floor. He’d done the best he could, with the medical knowledge he had. But, admittedly, he was years out of practice, since leaving the capes and masks behind, and these days tended to only work with patients of the four-legged or feathered variety. Not humans, and most definitely not Kryptonians.

“They’re going to make it, Jon.” Damian reminded, both for himself and his lover. “They’ll be okay.”

“I know.” Jon sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose. He looked back at Damian and smiled sadly, holding his hand out. Damian took it, and allowed himself to be pulled to Jon’s side. Jon kissed his fingers and wrapped that arm around Damian’s waist. “This must be how Mom feels.”

“Hm?”

“Helpless. When he comes back like this from missions.” Jon muttered. “I mean…there’s nothing we can do. We can’t go out there and chase Lex down.”

“…We _could_.” Damian countered quietly.

Jon looked up at him, leaning his chin on Damian’s stomach. “No. We made our decision.”

“Do you regret that decision, right now?”

“…No.” Jon admitted. “I don’t regret it for a second. Not even now.” He squeezed Damian’s hip. “Do you?”

Damian shook his head. “I do feel guilty about it, though.”

“Feel guilty about not feeling regret?” Jon asked. Damian shrugged. “You only feel that at this moment. Because back in the day, you and me might’ve been out there fighting with them, and it’d have been our job to watch their backs.”

“We’re their sons. It’s always our job to watch their back, isn’t it?” Damian countered.

“I don’t think they’d see it that way.” Jon chuckled. “Besides, I’d like to think we watch their back in other ways.”

“Like?”

“Emotionally.” Jon offered. “Being actual human beings – yes, I see the irony of that for my dad.” He smiled. “Moments like now.”

Damian returned the smile, running his hand over Jon’s hair.

“Besides, even if we were still in the game, we don’t have any intel on what went down tonight, where it happened, or who besides Lex was involved.” Jon closed his eyes, and leaned into Damian’s hand. “So we couldn’t do anything even if we _wanted_ to.”

“We could.” Damian repeated. “…We would just be going in blind and probably make complete fools of ourselves.”

“Yeah. Pass.” Jon laughed. He turned his head and kissed the palm of Damian’s hand. “…We aren’t anywhere near Metropolis.”

Damian blinked. “No, we’re not.”

Jon sat up, looked back at Clark. They’d removed the Kryptonite dagger as soon as they got to the house, but there was still a sickly green tint to his skin, though it was thankfully slowly fading. “We’re not near Gotham either.”

“Your point?”

“Where did whatever happened…happen?” Jon wondered out loud. “I mean…if it happened in either of the cities, they’d have to of come incredibly out of the way to end up…here.”

“Maybe that should be question number one when one of them wake up.” Damian suggested. “Or…Grayson can ask, when he starts his investigation.”

“I vote Dick.” Jon grinned again, but this time there was a little gleam in his eye. “Because I’m tired, I don’t want to be involved in that crap, and because our dads interrupted some _very important business_ -”

Damian was about to laugh when a groan came from the other room. Instantly, he untangled himself from Jon, who was already moving to stand, and darted across the hall.

Bruce was still on the bed – _their_ bed, as he was in their room – but was struggling in an attempt to sit up. Jon stopped at the door even as Damian rushed forward, pushing his father back down as gently as possible.

“You’re alright.” Damian called sweetly. “You’re safe. You’re at my house.”

Bruce blinked even as he collapsed back down. “…Damian?”

Damian smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Hello, Father.”

Bruce glanced back to Jon, eyes immediately became sad. “…No.”

Jon smiled and waved, even as Damian chuckled a little. “It’s alright. You didn’t bring any baddies here.”

“You shouldn’t be involved.” Bruce slurred, fingers twitching. Damian immediately took his hand in both of his, and glanced at the heart monitor nearby. “You shouldn’t have to even see-”

“Deep breaths, Father. Don’t panic.” Damian soothed. “You did nothing wrong.”

“I’m sorry.” Bruce breathed. “I’m so sorry, Damian…”

Damian kept his smile. “Pennyworth and Grayson are on their way. Drake is conducting the investigation. We’re just…the accidental middlemen.”

“Good. That’s…” Bruce winced in pain as he shifted a little. “That’s good.”

“…May I ask, though?” Bruce looked up at him. “What happened tonight? And how’d you end up _here_?”

“Luthor was trying to have a pissing contest with Clark again.” Bruce sighed. “Caught us off guard with a little more muscle and henchmen than normal. Got a few lucky shots in.”

“Oh, just a few?” Damian smirked. Bruce laughed, but grabbed at his side with his free hand after a moment.

“It was in a city not far from here. We had to retreat. We were…” Bruce frowned. “Clark grabbed me. I thought I heard him say something about maybe hiding out here for a while, to regroup or…or something. He said he was going to try to call first, to ask if we could stop by…?”

“Father, you know you don’t ever have to ask. You’re welcome here whenever, _whatever_ the reason.” Damian promised.

“Sorry Dad apparently dropped you out of the sky before y’all made it, though.” Jon chimed in. Bruce waved him off.

“Glad he at least was able to drop me somewhere somewhat…soft.” Bruce shrugged a shoulder. “…Where did I land anyway? Did Clark get in contact with you two? How did you find us?”

“We never got a call, but you fell into the back of Jon’s truck.” Damian sounded almost apologetic. “On the left over decorations from the shelter’s fundraiser this evening.”

“…Your fundraiser.” Bruce breathed. “Did my donation come through?”

“Father, I think there are more important things right now than if your donation made it to the fundraiser.” Damian snorted.

“It’s something you worked hard at. Something you’re proud of.” Bruce rambled. “I want to be there for you. I know I’m not…”

“And I want you to rest.” Damian retorted, cutting him off. He knew his father felt enough misplaced guilt, not coming around much as Bruce Wayne, as a normal person; they didn’t need to rehash it now. “We can talk about mundane things later. Alright?”

Bruce stared blearily up at him for a moment, then twisted the hand Damian was still holding to grasp his back. Tears began to well in his eyes. “It’s so good to see you, son.”

“And you, Father.” Damian promised with a smile. “And once Pennyworth gives you and Clark the all clear, Jon and I would love for you two to stay a few days, if you can spare it.”

Bruce opened his mouth to respond, but was drowned by the sound of a doorbell, and the various animals answering its call with howls and meows of their own. So instead, he just smiled and nodded, as Jon ducked away to answer the door.

Bruce and Damian sat in silence, Bruce’s eyes fluttering slightly, as they listened to the faint conversation at the door. Moments later, the sound of heavy, frantic footsteps up the stairs.

“I’ll start with your father.” Damian heard Alfred tell Jon. He moved to stand and no sooner had he settled on his feet, he was being dragged into the arms of his eldest brother.

“Are you okay?” Dick mumbled against his hair. Damian huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes, even as Dick pulled back, eyes darting across his body.

“I’m fine.” Damian chuckled. “As I’m sure Jon tried to tell you, we weren’t involved in whatever happened. Just so happened to be in the right place at the right time aft-”

“What is that?” Dick demanded, pointing at Damian’s neck. Damian put his hand against his throat, but felt nothing, so turned to look in the nearby dresser mirror. “A bruise? Or a…”

Oh. Right.

“…It’s nothing.” Damian lied. But the heat was already rushing to his cheeks, and Dick was already smirking knowingly.

“Gross.” Dick winked. He spun Damian around and shoved him towards the door. “Please get out and let me talk to Bruce before I barf over how precious you and Jon are.”

Damian scoffed, but did as he was told. As he stepped into the hallway, he found Jon doing the same out of Clark’s room, closing the door behind him. His worried face melted into a smile when he saw Damian, though.

“You got kicked out too?” Jon asked.

“Of course.” Damian sighed, stepping into the circle of Jon’s arms. “Civilians only get in the way of investigations.”

“So…what do we do now?” Jon asked, leaning his chin on top of Damian’s head.

“Go downstairs and wait, I suppose. Make Grayson and Pennyworth some coffee for their troubles.” Damian listed. “Try to ignore the desire probably brewing to jump back into the old uniforms and avenge our fathers. Maybe sleep.”

“Could we…” Jon hummed in thought. “…Maybe continue where we left off in the truck?”

Damian hesitated a moment, then looked up at him.

“Or,” Jon tried sheepishly. “I’d even take grabbing a blanket and having hardcore cuddle time. It is almost two in the morning after all.”

Damian blinked, waited another moment, then said. “I guess Grayson was right.”

Jon tilted his head.

“You and I are absolutely, ridiculously, _childishly_ gross.” Damian groaned in defeat. But he gently took Jon’s hand anyway, and together they walked down the stairs. “But…I’d be content with one leading to the other.”

Jon laughed, but let himself be dragged into the kitchen. As Damian started the coffee machine, he absently searched for a few blankets, setting some to the side for Dick and Alfred.

“Hey…Dames?”

“Yes, Beloved.” Damian hummed.

“…How long until everyone else in our families show up and stay for a few days?” Jon wondered allowed. “I mean, surely Mom and Conner know by now too…”

As the machine dripped, Damian plopped onto the couch, and Jon came trailing after him, fluttering the blanket over them both. As soon as the blanket stilled, a few of the animals jumped onto the couch to join them, while others puddled around their feet. “Oh, I’d be surprised if they weren’t all kicking our door down by sunrise. Even Todd.”

Jon laughed as Damian threw his arm around his shoulders. “Impromptu family reunion, with us as hosts.” He curled into Damian’s side, and closed his eyes as Damian kissed his cheek. “Can’t wait.”


End file.
